Affirmation

The Witch Bower

By Bambu

Author's Notes: All standard disclaimers may be found in Chapter One, even my thanks to SnarkyWench for carving time out of her ultra-hectic schedule to beta this for me.

~o0o~

The bower's magical barrier radiated with new layers of fortification, powered by the magic of the earth and sky and the couple sleeping under a blanket of leaves. Sparkles of rainbow light scintillated between trees, ferns, and grasses. All of the Malfoy lands and family would winter with ease, flourishing in the coming years.

Tenderly, a magical hand removed the living blanket from the entwined couple. Then deftly, without disruption, the bower shifted The Malfoy and his bride from river's edge to the wizard-made structure generations of Malfoys had called home, and from there onto the bed they would share for their lifetime.

~o0o~

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was really two things. For one, I couldn't hear the gurgling river nearby, nor was I lying on the hard ground, albeit padded with a bit of bracken. Instead, I heard deep, even breathing and felt the soft resiliency of a feather bed beneath my hips. If I listened more carefully, I could hear logs shifting in a fireplace and knew we weren't at my flat. There was also an utterly wonderful smell of hot tea and something to eat.

My mouth salivated at the thought of breakfast, my stomach growling in agreement. My body was distinctly unromantic. Despite the enticements to wakefulness, I wriggled closer to Draco, my backside snuggling against his hips, and nestled my head into the bony pillow of his arm and shoulder trying to get comfortable.

He chuckled. "I'll need that arm at some point today, Granger, and it's fallen asleep."

I turned to face him. He had dirt smudged across the bridge of his nose and his hair was slightly oily, but his eyes were filled with an inner glow and they were the softest dove gray. Unbidden my fingers found his mouth, tracing his lips, and he didn't shy away as he might have done in the past. Instead, miraculously, he kissed my fingers before placing my hand over his heart.

My lips curved in a smiled. "Good morning."

Draco wrapped his arms around me and rolled onto his back, pulling me across his body. His morning erection pressed against my hip. My fingers glided down his stomach, encountering a bit of a rough patch where dirt had turned to mud from the river and crusted against his skin. I giggled to think of this usually impeccably groomed man having a bit of mud on his skin, but I didn't stop my exploration. I found his goodie trail, and my index finger traced its slightly coarse path until I could dust my fingers over the mushroom head of his cock. The dove gray had almost disappeared from his eyes as his pupils dilated to black, and his quick intake of breath let me know he was as affected as I.

This wasn't something he would have done a couple of days ... months ... ago, and I sent a private, mental thank you to the glade for its interference.

Draco's hands wrapped around my biceps and he practically lifted me atop him, straddling his hips, feeling the hot, slick shaft of his erection nesting between my nether lips. His hands released my arms, but they slid down, over my elbows, my forearms, and clasped my hands in his, exactly as they had done the night before.

My nipples tightened and the nubbin of hooded flesh between my legs tingled. Despite my eagerness to have joyously abandoned sex during the light of day when I could watch him, my body had more pressing demands. I drew one of our joined hands to my mouth and kissed his knuckles while watching his chest rise and fall in an escalating rhythm of excitement.

My voice, when I found it, was deeper than normal. "With all the desire to continue this right now, I'm ... would it be utterly unromantic of me to ask you where the Water Closet is?"

I felt his amusement in the rise and fall of his chest beneath me. "It might sound completely unromantic to anyone else, but this is us, Hermione. It's not unromantic at all. In fact, I'd like a bath and something to eat before we continue what I hope will be a most welcome addition to my daily schedule."

He sounded so patrician, but he had released my left hand and was tracing one of my nipples as he spoke. His eyes were riveted to the path of his finger. It was almost as if he'd never before touched a woman's breast, let alone mine.

In the quiet of the room his stomach growled and his eyes flew to mine, a hint of color staining his cheeks. I giggled. "Mine did the same thing just before you woke up. I'd like to do nothing more than stay here with you, but I'm starving and I'm filthy. Could we postpone this?"

"Yes, of course. We can do this later." All at once, the Draco Malfoy I was most familiar with dropped back into place, his face a mask of the bland handsome aristocrat. It terrified me. He must have understood my reaction, for his hand left my breast to wrap around a hank of my filthy hair and pull me toward him. His eyes blazed. Unerringly, he placed his dirt-ingrained left palm between my breasts, directly over my wildly beating heart. "I haven't forgotten what has happened, nor do I intend to backtrack in any way. I only want to postpone our idyll for a short time. I, too, would like to clean up, and I must notify the authorities that you've been found."

I shifted uncomfortably, my bladder reminding me that my need was increasingly urgent. "What will we tell them? I don't want ... can't we just hide for a little while longer? Please."

He smiled that elusive, winsome smile which always got to me. "I would like nothing more than that. Let me check on mother and Potter first."

Instantly I remembered Harry, and my expression must've shown how guilty I felt because his hand cupped my cheek.

"None of that. He's been in excellent care. Having them here has been easier than I'd expected. I visit them every day, and while I'm not you, I do talk to him."

"Shouldn't I -- Aren't there things we can do now to help them?"

"We'll find out, but let's hide for just a bit longer. Let today be for us."

How could I refuse such a request when it matched my own desires? When he ran a single finger from my collarbone down my chest, in the valley between my breasts and down to my navel, I was practically quivering with anticipated yearning.

Then an expression crossed his face that I'd never seen before: it was a wicked smirk. "If you'd like, Granger, I'll join you in that bath."

We both knew exactly what I thought of his suggestion because a freshet of moisture dampened my nether lips and his unflagging erection. "I'd like that."

His hands slid to my hips and I rose off him, reluctantly, a little insecure about whether the new Draco would remain after we faced the outside world. Selfishly I didn't want to see it happen yet. He seemed to sense my mood, and in a sign indicating just how much we had learned about each other during the ritual, Draco clasped my hand, slipped from the bed, and led me past a seating arrangement toward a closed door at the end of the room.

While we walked, I absently noted that his room was easily twice the size of mine. It was a pleasant surprise that the colors were similar to those I had chosen in my flat. I glanced back at his bed. Linens in muted earth tones with golden brown and taupe accents enhanced the flame of his headboard. I had no idea what type of wood it was, but it was sturdy and handsome and the bed's four corner posts almost reached the ceiling. At the foot of the bed stood an old captain's trunk, with an assortment of blown glass vases, and next to them were a silver tea service and a small plate of scones.

Draco paused in front of the door he'd led me to, not relinquishing my hand. "Granger, last night ..."

Recognizing his expression, I tenderly cupped his cheek and said, "I don't want us to forget, to lose what we've gained." He leaned into my caress. "It's important."

Our eyes met and locked. Unconsciously our breathing synchronized and I smiled while I dropped my hand to his heart. Once again, he raised one of his hands to my heart, nestling it in the valley between my breasts, and as easily as that we were united ... just as we had been in the glade.

"It is indeed." He smiled before opening the door onto a lavish en suite. A bath was already waiting and I noted that the fragrance wasn't Draco's but mine. House-elves, I remembered. The estate had a number of house-elves which Draco had begun paying wages the moment he'd taken up his inheritance. As a novelty it was wonderful to have my needs anticipated, but I wasn't sure how it would feel in the long run. He pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed the palm, drawing my attention back to him. "You do realize that we were married last night."

"I suppose we were." A glad little bubble rose in my chest. "Was it ... I hadn't realized ... is it official?"

"It has all the validity of a more modern ceremony. I'll send an owl to the Ministry to confirm it."

"All right."

"Do you want to go through the whole ritual?" His eyes bored into mine.

"We already did that."

"That we did." Draco laughed suddenly and I joined in. It was easy and playful, and it put my residual fears at ease. When our laughter trailed off, he leaned forward to nuzzle my cheek, pressing a kiss to the pulse point beneath my ear.

But I'd had a thought which sobered me. I didn't want him ever to regret what we'd done. Rebuilding his family's honor was so important to him. "We could do the whole modern ceremony if you're worried about what other people will think."

He angled to lean his shoulder against the door, and part of my mind admired his lean, naked form. I waited while he considered my comment.

When he spoke, his voice was even and thoughtful. "There is no modern ceremony which could compare with the majesty of last night's ritual. We're married. We just have to file the papers, unless you want a formal ceremony."

"Not really. Last night was ... magical, for want of a better word."

I loved that smile, the one which lit his eyes. "Let me attend to the formalities while you find your bath." He tugged me close to him, and his erection surged to meet me.

My fingers quickly encircled the silken sheath and I practically purred as he bucked into my hand. "Did I tell you that the first time I watched you in the scrying pool I saw something very interesting?"

"What?" He gasped as I stroked him. I felt the blood heat under my hands and his erection grew as I fingered the ridge of the vein running the underside of his length.

"I saw you, thinking about me, in a great big bed." I nodded across the room. "That bed."

He blushed. "You didn't?"

"I did. If I hadn't been so scared at the time I would've been wet, just like I am now."

His hand slid to the side, off my heart, cupping my right breast. His eyes were hot and predatory.

I leaned closer, my hand stroking. "How soon will you join me in the bath?

"Give me ten ... no ... five minutes." His voice was husky, sending a thrill from my nipples to my clit, and I shivered.

"Please hurry. I want you, Draco." I released him. "I need ... need ..."

"To prove that what happened last night wasn't just the ritual?" He supplied the answer.

"I think so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, and I agree. But also like you, I would like to be a lot cleaner this time." He smiled then and kissed me ... a closed mouth brush of lips against lips. Then he swatted my bum.

I shrieked. "Draco!"

He laughed and left me at the door of the en suite. "Go, Granger. Get cleaned up. I have work to do before I explore every inch of your body."

He was halfway across his room before he handily scooped a navy blue dressing gown off the back of a chair. I watched him slip his arms into the sleeves before I stepped into the bathroom.

It was everything one could expect. It was luxurious but tasteful, all white and gold, with frosted windows for privacy. Candelabrum anchored to the large mirror lit magically when I closed the door, and I looked at myself ruefully in the reflective glass. My hair resembled a rat's nest and there were dirt streaks on my legs and arms and across my chest.

I quickly made my way to the porcelain toilet – thanking one of Draco's forebears for incorporating modern toileting facilities in this old building. The next order of business was to clean my teeth. I found a two toothbrushes and a small vial of tooth powder. As the daughter of dentists I was familiar with a variety of teeth cleaning methods. My mum always told me that plain baking soda would suffice if I didn't have toothpaste handy. I'd always laughed at her, but perhaps she was right.

Wetting the bristles of the brush first, I sprinkled some of the powder atop them. It reminded me of piling the grain on the stone in our ritual, and I paused for a moment, letting the entire experience wash over me.

After several moments, the sharp scent of peppermint reached my nostrils and my brain, and I noted that the tooth powder had clumped on the head of the brush. I smiled, and returned to my grooming. The soda was gritty and slippery, and it polished my pearly whites quite effectively. It took extra rinsing, but when I had finished, I couldn't believe how clean my teeth felt. I was sure there was a magical enhancement added to the concoction, but I didn't really care.

My stomach growled again, twisting and demanding. I crossed to the door and peeked into Draco's room. He wasn't there, and despite the fact that I'd just brushed, I dashed across the room to snatch a scone from the tray. It was still warm. I stuffed it in my mouth as I returned to the bathroom, chewing and swallowing as if I hadn't eaten in weeks, which in some respects was a rather accurate assessment.

I brushed my teeth again, and then climbed into the large tub.

It was heaven.

Exactly the right temperature, exactly the right fragrance. I slid under the water entirely, soaking my matted, filthy hair, and then erupted through the bubbles. My hair dripped down my back, tendrils floating amidst the thick blanket of bubbles.

"Mind if I wash your hair?"

I turned my head to see Draco braced against the door frame watching me. He still wore the dressing gown, but it was unbelted and his partial erection was framed by panels of navy silk. I raked my eyes over him and my mouth was suddenly dry. "Not at all. I would love it actually."

He crossed to the sink first and scrubbed his teeth, and I smiled to think we were similar in this way.

"How are Harry and your mum?"

"They're fine. Apparently they sleep better here than at St. Mungo's." Our eyes met in the mirror. "I'll show you where his room is later."

"I'd like that."

He rinsed a fourth time and then slid an arm out of his dressing gown, revealing most of his back.

"Draco!"

"What?" He turned to face me, but I didn't see the quick concern flash across his face. Instead, I was still seeing the red marks on his back.

"Your back ... what ... when ... did I do that?"

He arched his back and turned his head, getting a look in the mirror, one hand still tangled in the blue silk. "Oh. You must have. I don't really remember. I was paying attention to other things." His eyes sought mine in the mirror and I knew that the flush on my cheeks was from more than the heated water.

"Me, too," I whispered.

He re-oriented on me and stepped next to the tub, the silk trailing behind him. "Budge up."

I scooted, and he put one long leg into the water, wrinkling his nose at the scent. "I'll smell like you."

"And that's a bad thing?"

He chuckled. "Not really. I like the way you smell."

I ran my hand up his calf, feeling the coarse, wet hair under my fingers. I rubbed his dirty knee with my hand, turned dirt to mud which then dripped into the bubbles and water, turning them brown. My eyes fastened on his groin, and his obviously growing arousal.

"Hermione," he growled.

I flicked my eyes up to his. They were dark again, dark with desire. "Hmmm?"

"Let me get in to the tub. Then you can assault me."

"Assault you?"

"Have your way with me. Is that better?"

I nodded and he smirked, but his expression turned to something softer as he withdrew his other hand -- bunched into a fist -- from the silk and slid into the tub behind me. I half-turned in the vee of his legs.

He said, "I know we've done this a bit backwards, but these are yours ... ours." He opened his fist. Nestled in his palm were two rings.

My breath caught in my throat and my eyes flew to his. "Oh, love." I leaned up to kiss him, and it was fresh and minty.

When we broke the kiss we were both breathing fast and simultaneously. He had clenched his hand while we kissed, and I now took his hand in mine, opening his fingers to touch the two rings, reverently tracing the carving. I recognized the pattern ... the words in old English. I looked up when he spoke.

"They're Poesy rings. I had a different ring – a diamond -- to give you at the restaurant, but after last night ...."

There it was again, that proud yet vulnerable expression. I doubted he had ever let anyone else see it. "These are perfect."

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled the winsome curve of lips that was mine alone. "You can have the other ring too, but I thought -- Magnus told me where to find these this morning, and I ... they seemed right."

"I want to meet this MUM of yours, but he was right. They're ideal."

"Give me your hand, Hermione."

"I want to put yours on you as well."

"Of course." He offered his palm to me and I chose the larger of the two rings. I held the gold band, my thumb noting each groove cut into the soft metal, just as it had noted the same notches in the pewter goblet and bowl in the glade. "Will you tell me what it says? What it means? I can't read it."

He fingered the remaining ring. "Poesy rings stood for many things. In this case these mean fidelity and honor and forever."

Tears stung my eyelids and he took my left hand in his.

"It reads," his voice was a gossamer caress as he slipped the smaller ring over the knuckle of my ring finger, magic sizing it immediately to fit, "the Heart of the Malfoys."

"Oh!"

Our eyes met and he pulled my hand to his mouth. "With this ring, I thee wed," he said, his mouth brushing both ring and finger.

My hands trembled. As in the glade the night before, it seemed that magic was playing its part in our private vows, but I knew the only magic here was us and what we felt for one another. I raised his left hand and slid the ring, which widened under my touch and the size of Draco's knuckles, onto his ring finger. His eyes were as damp as mine. "I take thee to my wedded husband, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for now, for always, and hereby I pledge thee my troth."

I kissed his finger as he had mine.

A dark blond eyebrow arched. "Do I get to kiss the bride now?"

"You'd better." I replied joyfully.

He cupped my cheek and his fingers felt raspy. I pulled back for a minute and he cocked his head in query. I turned his hand, noticing only now how water-logged his fingers were. I turned my hand as well. I looked like a prune.

I couldn't help it. I started to giggle. "Do you realize," I gasped, still laughing, "that we've exchanged rings in a bathtub?"

His laughter rippled the surface of the water. "I don't think we'll ever do things like other people." He said it almost ruefully.

"I think you're right. But, Draco, I don't think I'd want to. We aren't other people. We're us."

"That we are, Granger. That we are." He sat up suddenly and reached for a bottle on the inner ledge of the tub. "I wanted to ravage you here in the tub, but really, I think the whole wrinkly skin bit has changed my mind."

I laughed and grabbed the cinnamon scented soap from the soap dish, working a rich lather between my hands. "Next time then."

"Absolutely."

He poured a dollop of viscous shampoo into his hand and proceeded to wash my hair as if he'd done it frequently instead of this being the first time. While he worked my hair, I covered his chest, shoulders and arms with fragrant suds.

Frequently pausing for kisses, from butterfly brushes to deep tongue-twining moments, we were bathed and clean in fairly short order.

I stood first, letting the water and soap drip down my body. Draco rose behind me, lifting a small golden cauldron filled with warm water. He sluiced it over me in a fresh rinse before offering it to me for return treatment. "Self-filling, Granger."

As I rinsed him, I commented, "About that. I'm not really a Granger any more, am I?"

"You'll always be Granger to me. I don't think I could get used to calling you Malfoy, even if you are the Heart of the Malfoys."

"No, I can't see you doing that either."

We stepped from the tub, drying off in warm, thick towels, and then, together, hands clasped we re-entered his bedroom. We were so sedate that I tugged on his hand and practically ran to the bed, which had been made in our absence. I leapt onto the thick camel-colored duvet, Draco tumbling after me.

"Now! Now you can have your wicked way with me."

"After we eat," he said, sitting up and nodding at the tray at the foot of the bed. "I'm starved. I'm surprised you aren't as well."

I pouted a little, but my stomach agreed with him. It was already taking sides, I thought with some amusement. "I had a scone earlier, but I am hungry."

"Jilly's scones are not to be missed, but I think this will sustain us for our dalliance, my lady." He attempted to bow, but he listed toward the side to an accompaniment of my mirth.

"Then we shall just learn that food can indeed be an aphrodisiac. Let's see what ... Jilly? ... has given us now."

I expected him to pick up the tray, but instead he took the opportunity to lean across me, pressing against my breasts while he reached for his wand atop the chest next to the bed. Our eyes met and my nipples tightened despite the warmth of the room. He stayed in that position for a minute or so, both of us distracted by the connection we'd created between us.

Arching up, I kissed him, and the moment changed into something else. Draco flicked his wand, the tea tray floated off the trunk, flying through the air to hover over us on the bed. "What is your pleasure?"

"Maybe I want to tie you to the bed posts and have my wicked way with you. You're too easily distracted from my charms, my husband ... oh! ... my husband." The lightheartedness of the moment changed once again. "Draco, you're my husband."

He nodded. "And you are my wife."

"It's different when you say it out loud, isn't it? It's rather nice, actually." I tilted my head. "My husband."

He angled over me, centimeters from my face. "My wife," he whispered just before he kissed me.

We forgot about the hovering tray filled with delicacies from the kitchen. We forgot about anything other than each other. I threaded my fingers through the silken strands I had always envied, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I love you."

He said nothing, only devouring my lips, sucking my tongue into his mouth. It was incredibly erotic and I rocked my hips, feeling the ridge of his cock against my abdomen. His hands wandered, just as I'd always wanted them to, and then he wrapped them around me, rolling us until I was on top.

Neither of us was experienced enough to complete the motion without breaking the kiss, but when we came to rest, we were once again in the position we'd been in before our bath, before the exchange of our rings, and our spoken vows.

I smoothed my hands across his chest, his hair soft and slightly damp under my palms. I'd always liked hair on a man's chest. There was something adult about it. Denuded chests made me think of little boys. I had never been interested in having a little boy in my bed. I wanted a man.

I smirked a little and tweaked his nipples. He grunted and I felt his cock jerk.

"What was that, Granger?"

"Just checking."

"Checking what?"

I flicked my fingernail across the ridged dusky bud and he groaned. "Checking that you like it as much as I do."

"Christ!" Draco's hands found my breasts, and he pinched first one and then the other. Not too hard, but enough.

I whined and slid along his fulsome desire. I was wet and ready, so very ready. Rising on my knees, taking my weight on my thighs, I slid my right hand to grip his pulsing soft-steel shaft and guide him to me. My other hand flattened over his pectorals, and his hips bucked upward, slipping neatly in place. Removing my hand from between us, I used it to balance on his hip, and lowered myself onto him slowly, fully, feeling every inch of his hard length fill me.

His eyes never left mine, and for a moment it was as if we were still in the glade, on the bare earth, coupling while magic seared through us. We breathed in unison and I ground against his pelvis, his coarse pubic hair adding friction against my clit. I felt the impact through my entire body, inhaling sharply, out of synch with Draco, but our eyes never left one another's.

He grabbed my left hand with his and placed it directly over his heart. Then he put his on my heart – it was the same gesture as earlier – but far more erotic. Our hearts beat in time and my breathing shifted to match his.

I rose, sliding upward until he was barely encased within my body. My heart pounded in my ears, in my palm, in his chest. Then, he flexed his arse, slamming into me, hitting my clit with his pelvis.

"Unh."

"Fuck, Granger. Do that again."

Once more I rose, arching my back slightly, tightening my inner muscles. Air whistled past his teeth, but our eyes, our hands, our lungs and our hearts were connected. He pushed into me again and I cried out.

He moved then, grabbing my hands as we had been joined in the glade and earlier in my bedroom the night I'd been so unhappy. But this time he wasn't preventing me from touching him. This time he pulled me to him, wrapping around me, rolling us until I was underneath him, and then he braced himself on his elbows and thrust. Deep enough to hit my cervix. It almost hurt, but he pulled back and thrust again.

"Draco." It was a whisper, an endearment.

"Yes, baby." He thrust again.

I slid my hand between our bodies, slipping my fingers around him as he pulled out and thrust in, using fingers to press against my clit. My eyelids fluttered. Lights sparkled at the edge of my vision.

"Look at me, wife!"

My eyes flew to his, heart racing.

He thrust again.

"Husband," I cried.

He roared his release, slamming into me, my hand trapped between us, but it was enough, and I arched off the bed, my inner muscles contracting about his pulsing shaft.

I gasped for breath, extracting my hand and wrapping both arms around him, sliding against his sweat-dampened skin.

"Hermione," he murmured rather raggedly in my ear.

"Draco." I fingered his hair, looking at the golden band on my finger. He angled off me, dropping to the mattress at my side, panting. His forehead pressed into earth-toned bedding. I turned toward him, smoothing my hand along his spine to the crest of his bum. "Are you all right?"

He tilted his head, gray eyes peering at me through a curtain of white hair. "Never better actually. Give me a moment."

"You may have all the moments you need, for the rest of our lives if you like."

"Oh, I like. I like it very much indeed."

After another minute, he stretched like a cat before sitting on his knees. His left hand rested upon my hip, and he groped for his wand with his right hand. He cast a gentle Cleansing Spell on us both. "Something to eat and then a nap, don't you think?"

I eyed the still floating tray, my stomach telling me how interested it was in the display of food. "I do. What about later? After our nap?"

"Well, then, I think," he eyed me with dark gray eyes, "after a visit with Potter and Mum ... I think I'd like to ravage you in the tub."

"Yes, please."

"Excellent."

As he fed me the first hothouse strawberry, I knew that my life would be filled with great happiness.

~o0o~

Winter's touch was seen in the frost coating branches, dying leaves, and stones of the forest beyond the bower's perimeter. It was a time of sleep and renewal in the heart of the Malfoys. The last green leaves clinging to life within the bower quickly fell under the season's inevitable encroachment.

... until the next generation.

~o0o~

Finite Incantatem

Final Author Notes: I'm unaware of any restaurant called Epicurious, but when I Googled the name, I discovered a website (epicurious.com) which hosts some of the Culinary Institute of America's best recipes. Also, the photographs are culled from several places, most notably: Visit Wiltshire; Pictures of England; The Connaught; and Boughton Monchelsea Place.